


In Which Marriage is Discussed

by SelanPike



Category: MS Paint Adventures, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Stabdads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-05 00:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelanPike/pseuds/SelanPike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Maybe we… maybe we should get m-married.”</p>
<p>So unexpected, coming from your shy, reserved Inspector. It doesn’t surprise you that he would want to marry you. He’s always been very fond of you, very clingy, and with how comfortable things have gotten between you two it isn’t surprising that he would want to finally tie the knot. You just didn’t expect him to actually work up the courage to ask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Marriage is Discussed

            The words hit you unexpectedly. You do not react, of course, because you are Diamonds Droog and you are very carefully controlled, especially in public like this. The two of you are having tea, as you always do on Tuesdays, and normally there is a routine to this. Talk about weather, local events, make veiled comments on each others’ work, pay the bill and maybe, if there’s time in your schedule, sneak off to your apartment afterward. Lately there’s been plenty of time. It’s been nice.

            _“Maybe we… maybe we should get m-married.”_

            Those were the words. So unexpected, coming from your shy, reserved Inspector. It doesn’t surprise you that he would want to marry you. He’s always been very fond of you, very clingy, and with how comfortable things have gotten between you two it isn’t surprising that he would want to finally tie the knot. You just didn’t expect him to actually work up the courage to ask.

            You put your teacup down and look at him with your full attention. You do not say anything, and he wilts under your gaze.

            “Ah, well, I mean,” he stutters, backpedaling, “I-i-i-if y-you want to, I-I don’t mean t-to p-pressure you.” His hands shake, and he, too, puts his tea down, if only to keep from spilling it. “I-it’s just that now that our daughters have both m-moved out, a-a-and neither of us are q-quite as busy anymore… ah, w-well, maybe we… we could just…”

            “Get married,” you say. “A detective and his gangster rival, under one roof.”

            Pickle Inspector nods, looking a little forlorn at your incredulity. “We… we don’t really… th-the game seems to be winding down, for us, d-don’t you think?”

            It’s true, of course. As the years went by the Crew has not been able to keep committing crimes at the pace they once had. They were older, quicker to tire, and you with them. You still tried to commit a truly dastardly heist now and then, partly to placate Slick and partly for Inspector’s attention, but it’s true. Your game with Inspector has long since ended. Now it’s just like these tea parties—routine.

            “I—It’s just.” Pickle inspector pulled at the tablecloth absently. “W-with my health, and your… I—I don’t mean to be r-rude, but your lungs… H-how many years do we have l-left? I—I’m not saying y-you have to quit c-crime, a-and I w-won’t quit st-stopping you but we… we should spend our l-last years t-to-together.”

            His point is valid. You’ve been having enough problems that you even stopped smoking last July. Officially, anyway. You can’t help sneaking out for a cigarette on a bad day when Inspector isn’t looking, although he does always seem to find out. It’s clear to everyone that your bad habit is going to be the death of you. You don’t really mind—you never planned on getting this far without getting gunned down anyway.

            And Inspector… he was never healthy to begin with. The years have not been kind to him. One of these days someone is going to sneeze on him and that will be that.

             The both of you are running out of time.

            “Since you are the one who proposed,” you say slowly, picking up your teacup, “I expect you to give me a ring.”

            Your ever-broke Inspector pales. “I-I-I ap-appreciate your adherence to t-tradition, b-but I…”

            “I will not hold it to my usual standards,” you say, calming him. “Any trinket will do.”

            Inspector blinks, then a goofy smile spreads over his face. He holds up a finger in a “one moment, please” gesture, then gets out of his chair and scampers across the street. There is a toy store there, one that he used to take Nepeta to when she was little—and Aradia too, sometimes, despite your demands that he not encourage her more childish tendencies. There are several capsule machines lined along the front of the store, and he approaches one and puts a quarter in. He runs back soon after, pulling open a transparent red-tinted capsule, then holds out its contents—a ring, tin painted gold with a red plastic bauble attached sloppily to it.

            “Diamonds Droog, will you m-marry me?” he asks.

            You take the ring and regard it with disdain before sliding it onto your finger. It looks out of place next to your other rings, all gold and diamonds. You suspect it will stain your skin.

            “I suppose I will have to provide our wedding rings,” you say.

            “S-so that’s a y-yes?”

            You nod. He smiles more brightly than before and sits back down. He takes the teapot and politely refills your cup, then puts in sugar and cream for you and stirs it. The thought of him doing that for you every morning creeps into your head, and it is not unwelcome.

            “Nepeta is al-already planning everything.” His smile becomes less elated and more nervous. “I—I never told her that… that I was g-going to p-pr-propose, she just, ah… her ‘shipper’s instinct’, as she calls it…”

            She does take after her father in some respects, you suppose. She has a tendency to pick up on small details, to notice things other people try to keep hidden. Unfortunately this only seems to apply to matters of romance. Also like her father, she has terrible taste. You don’t dare imagine what a wedding planned by her would be like. The tackiness would simply kill you.

            “That will not do,” you say.

            “I—I know,” he replies. “I—I’ve already told her… I told her that we’ll plan it our—ourselves. S-something small. Short. Not too many people. She’s n-not very keen on—on the idea.”

            You nod. You could stand to decorate the ceremony nicely, to placate both her and your own daughter. And you could certainly invest in a lavish reception, if only to distract your few guests while you and Inspector sneak out the back.

            Inspector starts giggling softly. You look up at him, silently asking what he thinks is so funny.

            “Oh—oh, um.” He continues to chuckle. “I wonder, wh-when we’re married… Does that make me Diamonds Inspector? O-or will you be Pickle Droog?”

            “I think we should leave our names as they are,” you suggest.

            “Ah, of course, of course,” he giggles some more.

            You finish your tea. You glance at your watch, then stand up. “I’ll take care of the check.”

            “Oh, s-so soon? I was hoping we—“

            “So sorry, Inspector,” you say, “I have plans today.”

            He makes a show of looking disappointed, but it isn’t sincere. “Hmm, a-at the b-bank on First?”

            “Slick would like to make a withdrawal,” you say.

            “C-come to th-think of it,” Inspector says, “I—I believe Sleuth a-and Dick and I had—had some errands to do in th-that area.”

            “Then I will see you there.” You kiss his forehead before walking inside to pay your bill. When you leave he’s already gone, probably on his way to round up his cohorts. That’s fine. Soon enough you’ll be seeing plenty of him. It won’t just be these short tea parties, nor a run-in at the bank, cards and keys in hand.

            He will make you tea every morning. You’re smiling before you can stop yourself.


End file.
